Cartman Idol
by Collie Luvr
Summary: We made a bet. One of us is going to win that bet. We're going on American Idol and only one of us can win. THIS STORY CONTAINS MEXICANS AND HIPPIES. Some minor AshXCartman goin' on. this will only be two parts.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK! I want to, but if Matt and Trey decide to sell it, I'll be up for grabs (snatches Kyle and gives him noogie)**

Just something to give you all while you wait for the next chapter of The Name's Ash

* * *

Cartman and I made a bet that if he wins American Idol, I'd have to be his servant for two weeks. And If I won, he'd have to sleep around with five Mexicans and six Ginger Kids. Doesn't matter which gender...

"Alright, fat ass." I said.

"But first we need to distract our parents." he said. I walked out into the front yard while Cartman went into his mom's bedroom. I dialed the number and waited.

"Hello?" my dad answered. I was hoping it was my mom. My mom will believe anything!

"Oy, I was wondering if I could sleepover at my friends' house?" I asked.

"You mean with boys?" he asked.

"No, sir," I lied, because my dad won't let me do that kind of stuff with boys. "They're girls."

"Oh. Okeh." he said and I hung the phone up.

"I told my mom I was going camping and she said I could stay all day." Cartman said.

"I said we were having a sleep over, but I told him you guys were girls." I said. Cartman looked at me and sighed.

"Where are you guys going to get airport tickets?" Stan asked.

"I know.." said Cartman. I don't feel well about this...

* * *

AT THE BANK

Cartman and I stood outside the bank.

"Why do we have to dress like raccoons?" I asked.

"Raccoons look like little robbers. And everyone's scared of raccoons." said Cartman as he was putting his little raccoon ears on. I put on some little raccoon paws and we both put on a mask and some make-shift tails. Both of us carried a grocery bag and Cartman carried a gun. Cartman kicked the door open and held his gun up.

"EVERYBODY, GET DOWN ON THE GODDAMN FLOOR, OR I'LL BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT!" with that he fired a warning shot. I reeled back in surprise. Everybody screamed and dropped down on the floor. We made our way to the counter. Cartman saw a Mexican look up at him and he shot a hole in the floor next to his hand.

"GIVE US THE FUCKING MONEY!" he shouted. I just stayed quiet.

"Ash, you have to be really scary, too." he whispered over to me. I thought for a few moments and came up with something.

"WATASHI-TACHI NI OKANE YA DAI O ATAERU!" the man screamed and began to put hundreds of dollars into our bags.

"Dude, what did you just say?" Cartman asked me.

"I said give us the cash or die."

"Sweeet..."

After Cartman and I robbed the bank, he fired about six or seven shots into the ceiling before we left.

"Dude..." said Kyle.

"I know, right? We just got over six thousand dollars." Cartman bragged.

"But we only needed about $450.00." I said.

"Oh, well. More money for me to spend." he said.

"No way, Eric. We got this money together, and if you won't share it, I'll tell our parents we just robbed a bank." I said.

"Eh, fine."

"Alright, how do we get to the airport?" Stan asked.

"I know this guy who can drive us." I said.

* * *

DOWN THE STREET

"Oh, dude! You've got to be kidding me!" Cartman shouted. "A hippie?"

"Well, he's the best we've got." I said as I climbed off into the little golf car. "Do you want to be on American Idol, or not?"

"Whatever..." Cartman got into the golf car and so did Kyle and Stan.

"Why are you two douche bags here?" he asked.

"We just wanna see how this is gonna turn out." said Stan. On the way to the air port, we hit a lot of speed bumps and with each one the hippie drove EXTREMELY slowly over each one.

"GO FASTER, YOU GODDAMN HIPPIE!" Cartman shouted.

"Dude, sorry! I don't want to hurt the little animals." he said.

"Cartman, be nice to our driver." I said. And somehow we got out of our raccoon suits before getting onto the golf cart...

* * *

AT THE AIR PORT

We finally arrived at the air port and stepped of the sides.

"Thanks, man." I said.

"Anytime, chick." he said and the colorful golf cart suddenly got lifted into the air and it flew off... wtf... We all stared for a few minutes.

"Oh, no! Someone's about to get the last tickets to California!" Kyle shouted. We all hurried to run to the counter. We pushed the man out of the way, panting.

"FOUR TICKETS TO CALIFORNIA! AND FAST!" Cartman shouted between breaths.

"That will be $450.00." the woman said in monotone. Cartman handed her $500.00 and she gave us back the change.

"In your face, asshole!" Cartman shouted at the man we just budded. We headed for the planes headed for California and hurried aboard. We had to wait for about 30 min to make sure everyone was loaded. The plane lifted into the air and we were off! A while later, I looked out the window. I saw the hippie flying high in the sky with a pink unicorn, a blue unicorn, and a huge white one. The pink one flew close to my window.

"It's a flying flower child, Charlie!" it said and disappeared. I got scared and I began to shake Cartman.

"Cartman. Cartman!" I shook him. He sleepily sat up and wiped the slob off his mouth.

"Why the hell are you waking me?" he asked. I just realized we were flying for a little more than an hour.

"I just saw frikken Charlie Unicorn!" I whispered. He looked at me and slapped me across the cheek.

"Dude, you are one crazy muff-" and he went back to sleep. I rubbed my cheek and looked out the window. They were gone.

* * *

CALIFORNIA

We finally arrived in California in what seemed like forever. We all stepped off the plane and into another air port.

"Aw, man! A hi-" I cut him off with a hand over mouth.

"I'll drive you to the studio, dude!" he said in a drunken voice. We all, once again, stepped onto the golf cart and drove off. A little while later we arrived at the studio where a lot of other people were trying out. Fourty minutes later, we were in. We saw the judges; Paula Abdul, Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson and Cara DioGuardi. I was a little nervous, so I had an idea.

"Okay, we'll rock-paper-scissors for it." I said.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-shoot!" Cartman cheated!

"We go again. Don't cheat, asshole!"

"Fine..."

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-shoot!" he actually won honestly this time.

"Do you know what you're going to sing?" Kyle asked. Cartman turned around dramatically.

"Poker Face." he said. He stepped out the shinny blue curtains and stepped into a small room with the American Idol judges. I could hear them through the curtains.

"Hello, and who are you?" I heard Simon ask.

"I'm Eric Cartman."

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Eight."

"Sorry, but you are too young. How the hell did you get in?" he asked.

"But we're from the Make A Wish foundation and we are all terminally ill kids! We only have one wish. To sing in American Idol before we... DIE!" I heard Cartman break out crying.

"Oh, I'm sorry! You may continue." I heard one of the female judges say.

"Thank you, miss." he said and cleared his throat. Oh, no. I think he's going to sound bad! _But that's the good thing. _A voice in my head said. Oh yeah... So then the music started and I was prepared for the worst. :)

"I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas Plays  
A little gambling is fun when you're with me  
(I love it)  
Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun  
And baby when it's love if its not rough isn't fun, fun," he sang. Wow. He's... Good! :Ɑ _Don't begin to think that! He'll win for sure! _The voice in my head spoke. _I'm trying! _ I replied.

"Can't read my,  
Can't read my  
No he can't read-a my poker face  
(she's got to love nobody)  
Can't read my,  
Can't read my  
No he can't read-a my _poker face_  
(she's got me like nobody),"

"Has he ever sang this, before?" I asked.

"Yeah. When we were playing Guitar Hero." said Kyle.

"What are you going to sing?" Stan asked me.

"I don't know, yet..." I said. I was caught between Nicki Minaj and Keyshia Cole.

"I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be  
I don't give a crap 'bout whales, so go and hug a tree  
(I love it)  
Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun  
And baby when it's love if its not rough it isn't fun, fun," Okay, I don't remember the 'I don't give a crap 'bout whales, so go and hug a tree' being part of the song. When the song was over, I was almost sad. I know I'm supposed to be on the positive side, but _dayum! _ Boy can sang!

"Beat that, bimbo!" he said while pointing to me. I gulped. I had to make a quick choice; Nicki Minaji it is! I stepped out the shinny sparkly blue curtains and looked at the judges.

"Who are you?" Randy Jackson asked me.

"My name is Ash." I said.

"Oh, you sound foreign! Where are you from?" Paula Abdul asked me.

"India." I answered.

"I thought this was American Idol, not _Indian_ Idol!" Simon said and began to laugh. Oh, Simon was always the dick I saw insult all those people on the show.

"So what have you got for us this evening?" Randy asked me.

"'Your Love' by Nicki Minaji." I said. I felt myself almost explode when the music started. I could hear Cartman talking in the BG.

"Bimbo ain't got nothin' on me." he said. _Kick his ass, Ash! _The voice said. I want Cartman to be full of Ginger and Mexican jizz!

"Shawty Imma only tell you this once, you the illest (dat for dat dat dude)  
And for your lovin' Imma Die Hard like Bruce Willis  
(bah ba dah dah oh)  
You got spark, you, you got spunk  
You, you got something all the girls want  
You're like a candy store  
And I'm a toddlor.  
You got me wantin' more and ma ma more of," Maybe I will win this. Then Cartman will have a week he'll never forget...

"Your love,your love(yeah)  
{repeat 4x}  
Your love, your love  
{repeat 4x}

{Verse 1}  
Yo(yo)  
He the type to pop tags and be cockin the brim  
Might breeze through The Ave, might stop at the gym  
And he keep a du rag, keep his wave on swim  
Wa waves on swim so they hate on him  
Anyway I think I met him sometime before  
In a different life or where I record  
I mean he was Adam, I think I was Eve  
But my vision ends with the apple on the tree  
'S' on my chest cuz I'm ready to save him  
Cuz I'm the one like I'm Tracy McGrady  
And I think I love him like Eminem call us Shady  
When he call me mama, lil mama, I call him baby," After I finished the song, I waited for the judges to decide whether I was the best or if Cartman was. Cartman stepped out and stood beside me. He nudged my arm with his elbow and I looked at him sideways.

"Cartman. You were truly awesome," said Randy. "Cartman smiled. "But your voice was a little rough for an eight-year-old."_ Yes! Ash, you can win this! I promise you! _The voice said.

"Ash. You were awesome. But you are a burger short of a full Happy Meal. Your voice was a _little too _light. Plus, your Indian accent made it lose 1 point." Dayum, Simon! Ya'll sure didn't put much on Cartman!

"Now... the winner is...," I felt like I was going to explode.

"Cartman! You're going to Hollywood!" Simon shouted.

"Yeah! Yeah!" he shouted while dancing around. "In your face, Jew!" he shouted and smaked me to the floor and ran out the door. Stan helped me up and I just looked in blank stare.

"I could've won this..." I said. "That fat ass totally fucked up..."

"It's okay, Ash. You sounded cool, dude!" said Stan trying to cheer me up.

"It was a stupid bet! How could God let this happen?" I began to cry and Kyle hugged me and patted me on the back, but I was too broken to hug back.

* * *

NEAR THE LIMO

I felt better about this as Cartman waved his arms to the cheering on-lookers.

"You, whore, lost the bet. That means you have to be my servant for two weeks. Come on, slave." He said. I cursed his name under my breath and walked around to the other side.

"You, go with them. They're going to follow me to the studio." he said to Stan and Kyle while pointing to an old man who looked way past his prime. They shrugged their shoulders and got into his old, raggity, beat-down 1970's station waggon. The limo driver let up one of his windows and began to drive.

"So, Ash. How does it feel to be a loser?" Cartman asked. I resisted the urge to bite his hand. I decided to give him the satisfaction. I mean, he won after all.

"It feels... Its like being a Foreign Dickhead." I answered.

"Say that again?"

"Losing feels like being a Foreign Dickhead." I said.

"Again."

"Losing feels like being a Foreign Dickhead." I repeated.

"One more time." he said, leaning in closer to me.

"CARTMAN!"

"Okay, okay, damn!" he said.

* * *

AT THE STUDIO

We arrived at the studio. Cartman was led out of the limo with some personal steps, but I had to slowly climb out. My foot slipped and I fell and my dog collar got caught on the door handle, choking me. I tried to feel the ground with my feet, but nothing.

"Oh, God, help!" I shouted, but my voice was cracked. I tried to gain footing on the door and the car, but no luck. I closed my eyes shut and held onto my collar, trying to reduce the pressure on my neck.

_I'm gonna die! _I thought. I couldn't breathe at all. I looked around to see if I could find either Kyle or Stan, but I didn't see them anywhere!

"Damn, they must've not have came, yet!" I hissed. I couldn't talk much. I shut my eyes again and tried to pick the buckle on my collar, but the door handle was blocking it and the buckle was shut. I opened one eye and saw Cartman walking with some dude to the studio.

"So, this is hollywood!" he shouted and spun around with his fat little hands in the air. I tried to talk, but I just couldn't. I was dying! I saw Cartman look around.

"Where's Ash?" he asked.

"I saw her attempt suicide on the car door." he said.

"You dick! Why didn't you say anything!" my vision was blurred as I saw him running towards me. He took my collar off the door handle and I fell on the concrete. My vision returned to normal, and I began to pant heavily.

"You okay, Ash?" he asked me. Am I okay? AM I OKAY?

"Yeah. And why didn't you notice I was gone earlier? I could've been dead by now!" I said as I stood up. I my neck hurts, I haven't gotten my breathing under control, and I don't feel very well, tonight.

"Come on. I have a long list of things I want you to do." Cartman said and walked off. I let out an irritated sigh and followed them.

* * *

INSIDE THE STUDIO

I finally began to breathe regularly. And Cartman was led to his dressing room. There were lights around the door frame. Cartman walked in out in front of me and sat his fat ass down in a blue and red chair.

"What happened to courtesy?" I asked.

"Now that I'm all hard-knockin', I don't have courtesy," he said and put on some Kanye West shades. "Get down on your knees." he said.

"What? Why?" I asked. I don't know what this dude has on his mind!

"So I can use you as a foot stool." Oh. I thought it was the other thing I thought he was thinking of... I stood in front of the recliner and got down on all fours. I felt the weight of his feet on my back and I almost felt sick.


End file.
